Tailoring Tales

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Tuesday, 7 March 2017

mending stories is a new, regular feature where I will be sharing my exploration of the upkeep of loved, worn clothing. Today's culture encourages a never-end cycle of the new, so I encourage you to step back and appreciate the journeys that our clothes have accompanied us on, which are so often imprinted onto fabric, fibre and stitching. From trials and tribulations, to tips and new techniques learnt, I hope you will enjoy following along - and are inspired to mend some of your clothing too! #mendingstories

Last year, over the Easter weekend, I was knitting a pair of socks. This was my second sock project after a long knitting hiatus, and I was feeling rather impatient. I was also unsure about how sizing works for hand-knitted socks. To fit against the contours of the foot, the fabric must stretch out and cling to it, and so there must be some negative ease. I really wanted to get the socks off the needles and onto my feet, and so, thinking that I needed lots of negative ease, I knit feet which were too short.

They seemed to fit fine at first, but during the day, the sock heels would gradually migrate from the ankle to the sole and look rather silly. I loved the colour of the socks, and the simplicity of the 3x1 ribbed pattern, so I wanted to keep them. But recently, 10 months after casting off, I've finally got round to lengthening the foot.

It took only a few hours to do, and it's really been worth it to achieve a better fit. I feel so much more comfortable now, and the socks will last longer since they're not being stretched out in the wrong places. If you have been putting off this kind of alteration on a finished knitting project, I recommend leaping in and fixing it - you'll feel much better afterwards!

How to lengthen (or shorten) the foot of a hand-knitted sock

Notes:
I tried to unpick the cast-off edge, but the end of the yarn was buried deep within the fabric and was impossible to find. So I carefully made one snip in the fabric, pulled out the yarn, unravelled the toe, and knit 1.5" more onto the foot. I could have cut off the old yarn, but I liked the idea of keeping it as a reminder of this alteration. It's quite clear where I have used new yarn to knit the toe as the fabric is so much smoother. I like this difference as it reminds me of a good lesson learnt.

Tools:

Small sharp scissors with pointy blades

Double-pointed or long circular knitting needles to achieve the same gauge as your sock

Optional: double pointed or long circular knitting needles in a smaller size than your gauge

Tapestry needle

Smooth waste yarn (e.g. fine crochet cotton)

Preparation:

First, look for the yarn you used to knit your sock with. If you no longer have it, choose another yarn in the same weight which contains at least 20% Nylon (polyamide). This could be a similar or a contrasting colour (get creative!)

Decide if you want to unravel and re-use the yarn currently in the sock toe, or if you have enough to use new yarn.

Determine how much length you need to add (or remove). You could measure a well-fitting handknitted sock and compare it to your old one, or just measure it against your foot

Work out how you knitted the toe. Is it a standard toe that you've knitted frequently, or did it incorporate special shaping? This may affect the length that you add to the sock foot.

Establish the direction of the sock: whether the sock was knitted from the cuff downwards, or from the toe upwards.

Find the needle size that you previously used.

Action:

For toe up socks, or if you don't need to re-use the old yarn: determine the row where you will re-start knitting. Put a lifeline through all stitches on this row by threading a length of smooth cotton through the right leg of each stitch across the whole row.

Very carefully snip away at the row above this one. (Do two rows above if you're feeling nervous!) Pull out all the excess. You will be left with a row of live stitches sitting on waste yarn.

For cuff down socks, or it you will re-use the old yarn: make a small snip through one stitch at the very top of the toe where it was grafted together. Pull the ends through a few times until you unlock the knitting and can unravel the whole toe. You will be at the foot, ready to start knitting again.

Put all live stitches onto your knitting needles. It may help to initially slip them onto smaller needles, but remember to then knit them off with the right size needles.

Count the stitches; double check for any dropped stitches or potential errors.

Saturday, 4 March 2017

When it comes to stitch patterns, these days, I'm finding that simplicity is best. I love easy, repetitive knit-and-purl stitch patterns, and lace that uses garter stitch and eyelets. Garter stitch seems to be quite divisive amongst knitters. It's incredibly repetitive, grows very slowly, produces a thick fabric that doesn't curl. It's the first stitch pattern that you learn as a knitter, and it's taken me a while to see its charms - but I absolutely love it. I've been excited to see the growing number of shawls and large scarves in knitting land using simple knit-and-purl stitch patterns, and I'm hoping to knit one soon. But how to choose the pattern? Here are some which are on my mind...

First is the really simple 'textured shawl recipe' by Orlane. This version is by Nicole, a.k.a. the gentle knitter, which I saw on her wonderful podcast. Nicole used a subtly mottled yarn and I think that this is absolutely stunning. Come to think of it, a lot of this list is heavily influenced by Nicole!

Slightly more complicated is Ene's Scarf. This is an old pattern published in the book Scarf Style, which I own but have never knit anything from. I've seen really lovely versions of it knit in natural sheep shades of beige, cream and grey.

Finally, a scarf rather than a shawl, is Dunyvaig by Kate Davies, from her most recent book Inspired by Islay. I really like the textured stripes, and I don't currently have a hand-knitted scarf, so it would be a good addition to my closet.

Tuesday, 28 February 2017

I recently took an absolutely wonderful trip to Paris with my partner. We were lucky with mild and dry weather, and spent our three days walking along the Seine, gazing through shop windows, and eating delicious food non-stop. We also called in on several yarn shops, which I'd found by searching 'tricot' (knitting) or 'laine' (wool) on Google Maps.

On the first day we went to Cat'Laine, in a little back street, which had a really nice, varied selection of yarns; I bought some black/grey gradient sock yarn. We also visited Lil' Weasel, a gorgeous yarn boutique in an art nouveau shopping arcade. Lil' Weasel had beautiful displays and slightly more luxurious yarns, including some hand-dyed skeins. I decided to stick with commercially-spun wool sock yarn, and found this pretty shade of blue yarn to knit some lacy spring socks. I'm afraid that we didn't think to take photos in these two shops as, quite simply, we were in a bit of a daze due to getting up at 5am to catch the Eurostar.

Towards the end of our trip, I was wondering out loud whether I should pop back into Lil' Weasel to purchase a sweater-quantity of yarn since it was a such a lovely shop. But whilst checking the map, my partner spotted one more yarn shop I'd saved which I'd forgotten about, and suggested going there instead. So we popped into La Droguerie - and I'm so glad that we did!

Communing with the yarn at La Droguerie

Yarn everywhere!

Knitting needles in a vintage display cabinet

La Droguerie is a haberdashery selling buttons, beads, trimmings, yarn, fabric and patterns. You step in off the street to a dreamy corridor of yarn. Sample skeins of every colour of each yarn are hung up on two walls, wools followed by cotton. On each type, there's a card stating the composition, meterage per 100g, and recommended needle size; dotted around are example garments and swatches knitted from each yarn. At the back of the shop are all the cones of the yarn, which will be wound up for each customer. You select the yarn you want, then tell the shop assistant how many metres you need; s/he calculates the weight, and then winds up your skeins of yarn from the big cones at the back. I had such a great time browsing the yarns, and as you can imagine, they came in wonderful colours.

After a lot of deliberation, I choose this aran weight wool in a bright jade green, which I will knit into a cardigan. I bought 1000m, so I decided to just take a bit cone home, rather than make the shop assistant wind it all off. This kind of system (taking a sample to the shop assistant at the counter) is common in haberdasheries, but quite unique for yarn shops; the staff were all really helpful and patient.

My partner doesn't frequent haberdasheries or yarn and fabric stores as much as me, and he really enjoyed looking at all the colourful displays, browsing the cards of buttons and jars of beads, and taking photos. It was impossible not to come home with something, and I will treasure my handknitted garments all the more with memories of such a special trip.

Friday, 24 February 2017

February has simply flown by, I have no idea how. I've been busy with writing deadlines, preparing for a music examination, rehearsing with a new band, and learning Mandarin Chinese. Along with the deadline-related stress and other pressures in my personal life, I had been feeling really down due to the global political situation, which in my opinion has gone from bad to worse, with a plummeting £ and rising inflation helping nobody. I found myself channelling this sense of frustration and helplessness into my knitting, and in doing so, I completely turned around the energy from negative and destructive to productive and creative.

The green socks are my most recent finished project; I have also made blue socks for myself, and a pair of red lace socks for my partner (which are so bright that they have proved impossible to photograph). I've enjoyed seeing his jolly flashes of red ankles during the last few extremely grey months. I'm happy to have knit up these two balls of sock yarn that I purchased in early December, but am constantly surprised by how differently self-striping yarn knits up, compared to the skein!

In December, I knit a pair of fingerless gloves for my Aunty's Christmas present. I used hand-dyed Shetland yarn from my stash, which I bought in Doncaster in 2013. The pattern is 'Tuuli' from Pom Pom magazine issue 7, a copy that I had some writing published in. I really loved these gloves and was so sad to give them away to her....so in January, I knit a second pair for myself. I made my pair without the turn-up on the cuff, as I was running out of yarn. I really love how incredibly light Shetland yarn is, these gloves are really warm and weigh next to nothing. They've kept me nice and toasty whilst driving in snowstorms and playing the piano in chilly rooms.

I have been thinking of starting a knitting/sewing video podcast, and I'd appreciate any thoughts or advice you had on the matter. Would you watch it? What do you think I should include? Do you have any tips?

Thursday, 12 January 2017

Hello Readers, and Happy New Year 2017! Unfortunately I was struck down with a cold on January 1st, and spent the first week of 2017 sick in bed. Luckily I'll get another go at new beginnings with the Lunar New Year at the end of January, so until then, I'm catching up on un-blogged projects that I was working on during December. And without further ado - my 2016 Year of Socks!

This was a personal challenge that I set myself. Last January, I moved to Sweden for 5 months in order to do an Erasmus exchange with Stockholm University. I couldn't bring my library, my piano, my cello, or my sewing machine; but instead tucked in two balls of a luxurious mustard yellow sock yarn that I'd purchased at the first Edinburgh Yarn Festival back in 2013. I hadn't knit a pair of socks in about 7 years, and I wasn't sure if I still could. But socks are a small project, and I had space for this yarn amongst all the thermal underwear and woolly jumpers that I'd squashed into my suitcase.

Knitting on a Stockholm bus

I cast on for these socks at the end of January 2016. They were knee high socks knit toe-up on 2.5mm needles. I swatched for them diligently, and it was my first toe-up project. I knit them on buses and subways in Stockholm; in cafes drinking endless cups of hot black coffee, and at the wonderful monthly knit night at Nordiska Museet (a Swedish folk traditions museum, kind of like Stockholm's equivalent to the V&A). They took a lot of patience, I got bored more than once - but once they were finished, I was officially hooked! I decided to challenge myself to see if I could knit a pair of socks per month during the rest of the year.

Woolly socks for me

In total I have made 10 pairs of socks, and I'm really happy with the results. 4 pairs are for myself and 6 pairs are for my partner. Some months (August and October) were entirely sock-less; other months (November) were furiously productive and I made more than one pair. I also have 1 orphan sock that I knit in December, but its partner was abandoned in the Christmas knitting rush. Together, my completed socks form a pleasingly colour-co-ordinated set, rather like a multipack you'd buy in a department store.

An array of colour co-ordinated socks for my partner

I'm most drawn to neutral (ish) shades which can be easily combined with everyday clothing. I always use hard-wearing commercial sock yarn containing at least 20% nylon. Some socks have been more successful than others; but they have all been worn quite heavily - which really shows in the photos! My partner has taken to wearing his hand-knitted socks with great enthusiasm which is really pleasing for me - I love the fact that my hand-made gifts are being worn every day, and it makes me want to knit him more & more.

Whilst I enjoy the look of socks with simple knit-and-purl patterns, the subtle detailing tends to blur with wear. Ribbed socks are the most successful for fit, as the sock leg doesn't slouch down. Lace socks are the most fun to knit, but must only be knit in a very hard-wearing sock yarn. The lace fabric actually allows for more ventilation in the sock, which is definitely a good thing

In chronological order, here are the details of each pair of socks that I knit.

1. January & February: Little Cable Knee Highs

My re-introduction to sock knitting wasn't faint-hearted: I went for a full-on pair of knee-highs! Read more about them here.

Yarn: Old Maiden Aunt Superwash 4-ply (100% superwash merino wool), bought at Edinburgh Yarn Festival 2013 and hoarded for 3 years.Pattern: Little Cable Knee HighsNeedles: 2.5mm Karbonz circulars, Magic LoopConstruction: Toe-up; gusset/short row turn/heel flat; elastic bind-offHeel: slipped stitches to form columns, but this was my first sock in 7 years and I didn't get it right!Notes: This marvellously extravagant hand-painted yarn has turned out to be the worst choice for socks, and it has worn terribly. I adore the look of these socks, but after a few hours, they slip down annoyingly. I've taken to just wearing them around this house, which is a bit of a shame, but I can't face unravelling them!

2. March: Autumn Leaf Ribbed Socks

After the extravagant yellow knee-highs, I wanted something quick, simple and everyday for my next sock project.

Yarn: Regia 4-ply sock yarn (75% wool, 25% nylon) bought in LondonPattern: Basic ribbed socksNeedles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: Top-down; Dutch heelHeel: Dutch heelNotes: My first socks were a little on the roomy side, so here I tried to use negative ease to get a snugger fit. Unfortunately I went a bit too far in shortening the foot length, but they are still wearable. I also disliked the square Dutch heel that sits right underneath the foot, preferring a heel technique that clings to the contours of the heel. Surprisingly, the Regia yarn has fuzzed up a little.

3. April: Leaf Skeleton Socks
With these socks I was inspired by the small details inserted into cuffs, heels, and toes that were featured on historical socks from the archive at Nordiska Museet. I added a little garter lace insertion into the ribbing.Yarn: Hjertegarn 4 (75% wool, 25% nylon), a Danish yarn bought in Stockholm.Pattern: Gingko socksNeedles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: toe up; heel flapHeel: slip stitch columnsNotes: this pattern, whilst pretty, is not very well-written. It features an extra-long gusset and no short-row shaping for the heel turn. The lace pattern also doesn't transform that cleverly from the foot into the leg.

4. May: Burgundy Ribbed Socks

Here, I started experimenting with sock patterns, and combined the toe-up construction of my yellow socks, with the neat ribbed pattern of my rust socks. I made these for my partner. Burgundy is his absolute favourite colour, and it seemed strange that despite owning an example of every single type of clothing in burgundy (and/or associated colours of claret, maroon, plum etc) he had no burgundy socks!

Yarn: Drops Fabel Long Print, bought in StockholmPattern: My own toe-up sock pattern using 3x1 rib and incorporating a rounder heelNeedles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: toe up; gusset/short row turn/heel flap; elastic bind-offHeel: (K1, slip 1 purlwise) to form columnsNotes: The yarn has pilled and fuzzed up a lot, and become rather matted in certain areas. Despite this, they've not developed any holes, although they have been heavily worn.5. June: Blue River Ribbed Socks

Using the same pattern as above, I made these for my partner. He chose the yarn himself, and these are probably the most-worn socks out of the whole bunch.

Yarn: Bergere de France Goomy 50 (75% wool, 25% nylon). Bought in London.Pattern: My 3x1 rib patternNeedles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: toe up; gusset/short row turn/heel flap; elastic bind-offHeel: (K1, slip 1 purlwise) to form columnsNotes: The yarn has pilled a little, but overall the socks have worn very well. I'm not entirely happy with the bind-offs for a toe-up sock: they are either too tight or too slack, and don't match the elasticity of the rest of the fabric.6. July & August: Subtle Socks

A pair of everyday socks for my partner to wear at work. The pattern is barely discernible (especially on camera!) but in real life, the texture is very pleasing, even elegant.

Yarn: Patons Diploma 4-ply (55% wool, 25% acrylic, 20% nylon). Bought in London.Pattern: Hermione's Everyday SocksNeedles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: Top-down; heel flap/short row turn/gussetHeel: eye of Partridge heel, garter stitch borderNotes: Black socks are hard to knit. I could only work on these in daylight, so they were quite slow-going. I was initially reluctant to use this yarn as it's such a high synthetic fibre content; but it was the only black sock-weight yarn stocked in John Lewis! The plus side is that they should be quite long-lasting.7. September: Horse Shoe Lace Socks
These socks took me ages to finish (probably because I knit a cardigan between the first and second sock...) They feature a scaled-down version of a typical Shetland horse shoe lace, which I always enjoy knitting. I'm not entirely happy with the bind-offs for a toe-up sock: they are either too tight or too slack, and don't match the elasticity of the rest of the fabric. After this point, I abandoned toe-up sock knitting for the time being.

Yarn: Sandnes Garn Sisu (80% wool, 20% nylon). A Norwegian yarn bought in StockholmPattern: Mermaidia Needles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: Toe-up; heel flap/short row turn/gusset; sewn bind-offHeel: (slip 1 purlwise, K1) to form columnsNotes: The yarn is a little heavier than many other sock yarns, so the socks are a bit thicker. I found it stiff and a bit scratchy to knit with, but this could be due to a tight gauge.8. November: Sporty Stash Busting Socks

These socks were an experiment in stash-busting. I was beginning to build up quite a pile of sock yarn leftovers, and I hate stashing, so I wanted to see how far I could get with just buying one ball of plain 'fresh' yarn. I think they make a fun casual pair of socks. I gave these to my partner for his birthday.

At this point, I affirmed that my favourite socks to make, see and wear incorporate simple textured stitch patterns. I also love uncomplicated but striking uses of colour. I gave these socks to my partner for Christmas.

Yarn: just over 1 ball of Drops Fabel sock yarn in blue (75% Wool, 25% Nylon), and leftovers of black yarn for the contrasting toe and cuff.Pattern: Mount Airy SocksNeedles: 2.5mm bamboo DPNsConstruction: Top down, heel flap/short row turn/gussetHeel: eye of Partridge heel, garter stitch borderNotes: Drops Fabel is a great yarn that's very cheap, however it gets fuzzy quite quickly. The subtlety of the diagonal purl pattern, and the beautiful eye of partridge heel, has become lost after a few weeks' wear.

10. December: Luscious Ribbed Socks

The last pair of 2016, and the first pair of 2017. I completed these on a day last week when I was still bedridden, but slightly more lucid. They haven't been worn yet, which is why they look so skinny and weird! The yarn was an absolute joy to knit with, but I am concerned that it won't be that hard-wearing. I originally made these socks for myself; but when I finished them and put them on, I let a out a big sigh...They were so much my partner's colour that it looked like they already belonged to him! I kept feeling like I'd stolen his socks, and couldn't wear them with a clear conscience. So I gave them to him for our anniversary at the beginning of January.

2017 plans...
I find the look of these 10 socks squashed into this wooden crate incredibly pleasing. It was much emptier once I separated my socks from my partner's, and it would be lovely to fill it up again over 2017; but I'm not going to set myself a challenge this year. Various family members have requested sweaters, and so I've decided to take the focus away from socks slightly.

Recently, I have discovered similar sock-knitting initiatives linked to podcasting/Instagram, such as the Box O'SoxKAL which requires 12 pairs of socks in 12 months. I don't want to set myself up for failure, so I won't be taking part, but the hashtag is fun to follow anyway!

That's not to say that I won't be knitting any socks! I have somehowacquired 4 new balls of sock yarn; there's an unfinished pair to complete; and there's some old stash yarn to use up too. So that's pointing to at least 7 pairs of socks in 2017. On that note, I'd better get knitting!

Thursday, 29 December 2016

I have this thing about pattern and detail: I want everything that I use, every day, to be beautiful. My spaces are a lopsided assembly of the baroque and the functional; but never, ever bare. When we use things every day, we start to stop noticing them; and I want to work against this. Choosing and making useful objects which are aesthetically pleasing allows us to appreciate every time that we use our chosen tool.

A perfect example of this is a wash cloth, hand soap, and lunch bags; above, a set that I gave away for Christmas to a relative that I've fallen out of touch with somewhat ever since she has had two children. I bought a stack of fragranced soaps when I was in Bali, back in July, intending them as stocking-fillers. I crocheted this face cloth using mercerised cotton yarn that has been in my stash for 10 years, the project long-unrealised. I have enough for 3 more flannels. It was very quick to make, taking a few tube journeys one weekend as I attended several Christmas parties with my partner. The ripple pattern can be found on Attic 24. (Scroll to the bottom of the post for clear pattern instructions.)

The drawstring bag is the same pattern I made a few weeks ago. It uses a wild cotton print that I received in a fabric stash swap; it was surprisingly difficult to determine the pattern placement, but I think I succeeded. It's lined in raw calico and uses plain cotton tape as the drawstrings. A yellow vintage plastic button completes it.

Tuesday, 27 December 2016

2016 feels like the year that handknitting became more fashion-forward than ever, and I was helplessly swept along with the trends. I cast on this sweater at the end of October, and I can write a firm checklist of all the directional details that it features:

Dipped hem

Split ribbing

Chunky yarn

Long cuffs

Cropped length

Oversized poloneck

Basic black

That's SEVEN points of trendiness! And I don't regret it one single bit: I love, love, absolutely love this sweater. I was rather sad to give it away - but alas, it was made as a Christmas present for my sister. I forced her to wear it on Christmas day even though she was sweating up from a viral infection, and in no way would have chosen to wear a woolly jumper in that condition. I think that she sensed she had no choice in the matter (or the jumper would have left the house on my back).

The pattern is Snug by Kim Hargreaves, a pattern from another back issue of Rowan magazine (no. 30) that I've had kicking around for years and never knit anything from. The yarn is R2 Fuzzi Felt, Rowan's short-lived, off-shoot "funky" yarn range aimed at teenagers. I fudged around with the gauge and the pattern sizing, eventually casting on adult size L which came out around adult size S. I did some arithmetic for the sleeve head, so that it came out the same size as the arm hole.

Ages ago, Rowan were selling off lucky-dip bundles of 4 magazines from their back catalogue for not much money, and as I was new to knitting and seeking to build up my pattern library, I ordered a set. I was somewhat disappointed by the selection that I received at the time: the magazines featured upteen stocking stitch sweaters using traditional bottom-up / in pieces construction. The internet knit blogging scene was going strong (this was just before Ravelry) and top-down raglans and in-the-round construction was all the rage. Rowan's offerings felt dull and out-of-date. Now, however, I have the opposite feeling about them. They offer a range of blank canvases, plain sweaters in a range of gauges that I can adapt to my own purposes as I wish, cutting out some of the mathematical jiggling. Lately, I find that I dip in and out of these magazines quite frequently.

I bought the yarn half price around 8 years ago and started knitting a jacket which never got off the ground. I recently frogged it during a de-cluttering frenzy that also led to the release of the red merino for my Christmas cardigan, and a jumper's worth of green Shetland wool that I'm turning into a better jumper. The yarn is a strange blend (58% nylon, 20% acrylic, 16% merino wool, 6% alpaca) that has very little elasticity, and is quite hard on the hands whilst knitting. However, the final jumper is incredibly soft, snuggly, and quite lovely to wear: cosy without being overly warm. I have another jumper's worth of it in a lovely forest green, as well as some stray balls in orange and blue. The green can be a Christmas jumper for someone else next year, and I might just donate the rest - unless any readers would like it? - let me know in the comments!

Poor sis has been too ill to let me photograph her wearing the sweater, so I'm wearing it here instead. Taking photographs of a black sweater in December is not an easy task at all; I ended up using a long exposure time, which resulted in some weirdly 'atmospheric' photographs.

Well, you get the idea! All in all, a successful stash-busting project using a pattern from my library; and if she never wears it, I shall be most happy to claim it back for myself!Project DetailsPattern: Snug by Kim Hargreaves, Rowan 30Yarn: Rowan R2 Fuzzi Felt, 9 ballsCost: about £20 but 8 years ago, so really £0